Warriors And Paladins: Embers of Sulfuras
by Saelix
Summary: It wasn't until later, when the cultists were found that they realized that this had not simply been a case of the elements lashing out blindly. When news of the similar destruction in Stormwind came, they understood plainly. This had been an attack.
1. Prologue: The Tortured Tree

**- Warriors And Paladins: Embers of Sulfuras -  
**_Prologue: The Tortured Tree  
_

Mount Hyjal was a strange place.

So much had happened here. If one could scan the most important history of Azeroth on a single page, they might think the whole of the world was nothing more than this one mountain. And perhaps in some respects they would not be mistaken - Mount Hyjal was home to Nordrassil, the World Tree.

Nordrassil, the tortured tree.

It had been blessed by dragons and burned by demons. It had given the night elves their greatest gift and it had been their sacrifice when for the sake of the world, they gave up that gift. The tree had grown enormous through years of seclusion provided by Malfurion Stormrage and through their hard work and loving care the Guardians of Hyjal had finally seen it start to heal.

Yes, if one could read the history of Mount Hyjal they would see a long and painful history of war and violence, but also of hope and resilience. If they read farther back in time they might see a story about the races of the world learning to work together to overcome an impossible enemy. They might see a story about the oldest and wisest race of all learning that you must sacrifice for the greater good.

They might think from this history that the world had suffered and burned and through it all come out stronger and more resilient on the other side, and perhaps they might even smile as their eyes scanned towards the more recent years of healing and rejuvenation thinking that perhaps the turmoil was over and Azeroth might finally live happily ever after.

They would be wrong.

Mount Hyjal was once again burning. The elements seethed in hatred of the mortal races who fought over the precious gift of life that the tree provided, but Azeroth faced not the Burning Legion or the Scourge this time, but one of her own precious caretakers. To the reader of Azeroth's history he was Neltharion the Earth-Warder. To those who lived and breathed in the world and saw his cruelty and hatred of life firsthand on the mountain, he had only one name.

Deathwing.

Where he was now no one knew, but the fires that raged across the mountain, set by the cultists who worshiped him and all the corruption he wrought in the world, bore the unmistakable trace of evil that flowed through his veins. The fire elementals themselves had been corrupted and controlled to do the bidding of his Twilight Hammer cult, attempting to sear every living thing from the mountain, from the birds in the trees to the last blade of grass on the ground.

What the Guardians did know was enough to unnerve them. Nearly half of the mountain was corrupted. The battle so far had been hard fought, and still they had been pushed back almost to the tree itself. The entire southern side had been lost, and with each step they were forced back the fires took another leap forward, scorching the ground they had bled over moments earlier. They fought not simply flames set by torch or spell, but the fire elementals wielding all the fury of Ragnaros.

The least corrupted parts of the mountain were covered in demons and cultists. The sky was grey from smoke and the tented encampments of their enemies dotted the barren hills that had been teeming with life before their arrival. These parts of the mountain were recoverable perhaps, in time. It would take years, and there was no guarantee, but if the Guardians could only push them back, if they could only find a way then perhaps a cure could be discovered. But some areas were not so hopeful.

Directly South of Nordrassil once stood a beautiful lake. The water had been so clear that on a bright day the wisps could be seen below the surface; in place of the water now stood lava. The clear sky had been replaced by persistent darkness, fed by the black smoke rising from the fires. The only light came from the orange glow of the magma reflecting off of the dark smoke. The smell of burning sulfur filled the air and sitting in the middle of it all was the gate to hell - Sulfuron Spire.

The towering keep was little more than a portal to the Firelands inside, but it fed an endless stream of elementals enchanted and enraged by the cultists before being turned on the mountain. And soon, once the pathway to the world tree was secure and the Guardians defeated, Ragnaros himself would step through to commence the final victory, the destruction of Nordrassil, and the violent, merciful end of the tortured tree.

If the reader of Azeroth's history were to give up hope here one could not blame him. Each word written on the page would tell of another step back, another battle lost on the mountain. It might seem that time had run its course and the end of the great story of Azeroth was in sight. But buried beneath all the words of torment, all the blood and tears spilled over the great tree and the battle for its survival was a single line; a single hope for life. One event on one day of that great war that might give evil pause and make fear consider itself an enemy for the first time.

For in that one moment of that one day, Kalunaa, conqueror of Ulduar and vanquisher of Arthas and the scourge gave her partner a solemn nod before stepping through the portal to Hyjal.


	2. Chapter 1: The Two Elves

**- Warriors and Paladins: Embers of Sulfuras -  
**_Chapter 1: The Two Elves_

Kalunaa stepped out of the portal and onto the soft grass underneath the great tree and quickly scanned her surroundings. When first she had heard of the battle for Mount Hyjal, it hadn't been of any particular interest to her. It seemed at the time to be just another pointless fight.

She was a skilled warrior, and when the time arose she would head into battle without hesitation, much to the detriment of those who found her as their opponent, but where life could be spared she would choose another path. At first she had thought the rumors were exaggerated. She had assumed that a skirmish with a few lost demons from Winterspring or Felwood had given cause for panic.

She hadn't felt the gravity of the situation until the elementals ripped through Orgrimmar.

* * *

_Rain and wind belted the rooftops as entire chunks of the rocky cliffs surrounding the city were sheared off and hit the ground to spawn Earth elementals. These in turn mixed with the elementals of Fire to tear at the walls of every building. Waves crashed from the angry water elementals and flooded entire sections of the city in minutes, the citizens hopelessly piling up sandbags as the Wind elementals whipped them with the air, making it impossible to even stand up._

_She had been present that day, and watched as homes were destroyed and lives lost. She had fought, and done a great deal to protect those around her but she was one elf, and no matter her skill with a blade, the city was overrun. _

_It wasn't until later, when the cultists were found that they realized that this had not simply been a case of the elements lashing out blindly. When news of the similar destruction in Stormwind came, they understood plainly._

_This had been an attack._

_Walking the shattered streets of the city she saw the Orcs inspecting the ruins of their lives. She saw mothers, fathers, sons and daughters lying dead, sometimes alone and sometimes with entire generations of their families wiped out nearby. The sight tore her apart, not just because of what had happened here but because of the uncanny resemblance it bore to the attack on her own beloved Silvermoon at the hands of Arthas so long ago. _

_She knew the pain that these families would now hold forever, and it broke her heart. But more than that, it infuriated her. This was the work of the Twilights Hammer. It was an attack on innocent people trying to live their lives, and she would see to it that they paid dearly for their crimes._

* * *

As her eyes adjusted to the soft glow of the tree's natural energy, what met her gaze was certainly impressive. The Guardians of Hyjal had made their home directly underneath Nordrassil. The great tree was lifted up into the air, its roots acting as if they were the legs of an enormous table. The gap beneath it was large enough to fit a small building, and the simple structure they had built served the many needs of its protectors.

Nestled quietly in the remaining space was a small pond, glittering with each wisp that floated above its waters which were constantly replenished by a small stream running down from the bottom of the tree's trunk. Kalunaa took in the atmosphere and thought to herself that if not for the tension created by the war raging a short distance down the mountainside, it might have been a perfectly serene spot.

The soft arcane hum of the portal gave the hint of an approaching arrival, and soon her companion stepped through to join her. She glanced over at him. Her time with him had been interesting so far, if brief. His name was Corveau, and he was a Blood Knight from Silvermoon. That much he had practically spewed at her during their first meeting. She grinned as she recalled that night in the tavern in Dalaran.

* * *

_It didn't take long for her to reach her destination, a comfortable little inn below the surface where she usually had a room available upon request. This time was no different in that regard. Before heading to her room, she decided to pause at the bar for a drink. Something warm – she hadn't tasted warmth in almost two weeks._

_It was just as the bartender served it up that a Paladin crashed down into the seat next to her, exhausted."What's in the mug?" he asked._

_Kalunaa eyed him curiously and it didn't take her long to decide that he was simply trying to be friendly. "Honeymint Tea." She replied, relatively uninterested in conversation at the moment._

_He smiled at her, a large, toothy grin that preceded the revelation of his true intent."A strong drink for a strong Warrior eh?" He delivered the line flawlessly, and immediately realized its failure. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. Was he looking to get knocked out?_

_"Corveau the Blood Knight, at your service." He continued on, trying to sweep his entrance under the rug. She smiled at him. His pickup lines may be terrible, but at least he was friendly._

_"Kalunaa, the strong Warrior, at yours" She said with a smirk. He visibly cringed at the remark. She decided mercifully not to push his embarrassment."So Corveau, what brings you to Dalaran?" she asked casually._

_"I'm just heading out actually, tomorrow. A mage of the Kirin Tor has gone missing in the Storm Peaks and I've been asked to look into it. They've given him up for dead – rather easily if you ask me – but who am I to turn down a worried family?"_

_Her lack of interest in the conversation was briefly dispelled at the mention of the Storm Peaks. "I see" she stated matter-of-factly. "Do you know where he was last seen?"_

_He seemed to think carefully for a moment. "I believe the arch mage mentioned somewhere called the Engine of the Makers – something about a search for evidence of iron dwarf activity in the area." He finally said, almost unsure of himself._

_She frowned slightly. She didn't know much about this Paladin other than what she could see. And what she could see was that he was clumsy, his armor was pitiful, and his knowledge of the situation lacking. Surely he would get himself killed._

_"Have you ever been to the Storm Peaks, Corveau?" She asked with a hint of tease in her voice._

_"Well, no. But I've heard it's amazing." He replied, for a moment gleefully unaware of her concern._

_"It is" She said. "It's also very dangerous. Have you considered that if a Mage of the Kirin Tor could not survive there, you might not do so well either?"_

_For the first time, he seemed to stop and think about the situation._

_"N-no. I hadn't thought of that. But I can't back out now; his family is counting on me. What if he's alive and I don't go?" He asked, the worry clear in his voice._

_She sighed. She already knew where this was headed, and she almost regretted saying anything to him because of it._

_"Hey, you sound like you've been before." Corveau exclaimed, excited at his sudden revelation. "Why don't you come with me? You can show me around and maybe I'll show you a thing or two about fighting!"_

_Kalunaa almost snorted._

_"You know what Corveau? I think I'll take you up on that." She said with a smirk._

_If nothing else it would be entertaining, and a chance for another adventure, however short it might be. And she could probably keep the fool alive._

_"Great! We leave tomorrow. Meet me here." He said, seeming somewhat relieved._

_After he had gone, she smirked to herself and turned to make her way back to street level. The situation was almost comical. She just hoped it would stay that way. The Storm Peaks could be merciless to the unprepared._

* * *

That meeting had been nearly eight months ago, and it had set in motion an adventure that – given its simple beginnings – Kalunaa never could have imagined would have such a solidified place in her memory. It had brought her back to her roots, shown Corveau the danger of the world outside the safety of its cities, and helped them form a lasting friendship. But more importantly, it had shown Kalunaa the potential that her friend held inside of himself, even if he did not realize it yet.

After their quest had concluded, he had gone to the Argent Tournament to train. His ragged and mismatched armor had been replaced with the beautiful red and gold plate of the Sunreavers and his rather lacking knowledge of combat and his chosen art of healing had slowly been fine tuned and perfected to the point where the Paladin standing next to her now was hardly recognizable from less than a year earlier.

His eyes, like hers had immediately scanned their surroundings. His brow was set and he held himself with a composure that told of his newfound confidence. He had neither the experience nor the knowledge of war that Kalunaa did, but his time at the tournament had shown him at least that he had the capability to rise to any challenge, and his companion's presence only granted him more confidence.

It had been her that made it all possible after all. She had helped him through the Storm Peaks, provided him with the tools he needed to learn, and set him on the path to the Argent Tournament, and then after he had learned all he could there, she came to give him another opportunity in this latest adventure.

What she hoped to accomplish he did not yet know, but one thing was clear to him. They had come through one portal only to fight their way to another. Their goal was visible from the top of a nearby hill. Sulfuron Spire poked – _impaled was more like it, he thought to himself _– up through the top of the thick dark clouds of smoke.

They were headed to the Firelands.

* * *

**A/N:**

It was pretty overwhelming (in an awesome way) to hear the requests for a sequel to Warriors and Paladins, and after I got the itch to reread it a few days ago I couldn't resist. This chapter was mainly to catch up those who may not have read the first one, but from here on out it should be all new action! Here's to the story, and hoping I can make it a great read! As always please read and review!


	3. Chapter 2: The Sanctuary of Malorne

**- Warriors and Paladins: Embers of Sulfuras -**  
_Chapter 2: The Sanctuary of Malorne  
_

In the aftermath of the devastation of Orgrimmar, the races of Azeroth had peered out from beneath the wreckage to find a very different world. The Cataclysm that shook their homes and cities rocked the rest of the world with just as much fury. Report after report of the destruction wrought over the lands came streaming in to Orgrimmar, and soon after the people who had been so helpless earlier set their determination on revenge.

So it was that the simple barracks that had held little more than the bare functional necessities for the Guardians of Hyjal was now overrun with mercenaries. The wardens of the great tree had been surprised at first, but it did not take them long to put their newfound allies to use in the battle. The endless stream of cultists who had at first blitzed their way up the mountain from Winterspring now stood deadlocked with an equally endless stream of fighters whose single goal was to oppose their every movement and advance.

The battle had advanced closer to the tree than the Guardians would have preferred – though to be fair, _any_ battle on the mountain was closer than they would have preferred – but for the time being at least, the steady march of the cultists had stopped.

Kalunaa had been watching some of the fighters come and go for a few minutes now. Shortly after arriving, Corveau had gone to restock himself on supplies – _"You had how long to do this before we left?" She had grumbled at his request _– and so she was currently on her hippogryph perched atop a small hill waiting on him.

Her eyes found a small group of goblins who had come through the portal a few moments after she had. A small mound of dirt had risen into an enraged elemental of earth and they had quickly surrounded it, attempting to kill it.

The first of the three goblins swung a comically oversized mace towards the earthen creature, missing both his target and – barely - a second nearby goblin as the weight of the weapon sent him tumbling wildly. While the second turned and kicked a rock at his inaccurate companion – _"Watch where you swing that thing ya big lug!" –_ the third pulled out a small contraption that seemed to be a bomb attached to a fishing pole. Lighting the fuse, she swung it gleefully towards the elemental, her shout of triumph quickly turning to one of panic after realizing that she had mistimed the fuse and the bomb was now swinging back towards her.

With a deafening boom it exploded midway between target and victim, sending goblins flying everywhere but somehow accomplishing its goal as in place of the former elemental now stood only a few small clumps of dirt. The trio exploded into cheers but scattered in panic as a second large boulder landed squarely in between them before sprouting large stony arms and giving chase to its now terrified victims.

Kalunaa watched the scene with amusement for a few moments before a new presence appeared next to her.

"Here" Corveau said, holding out a canteen.

Kalunaa took his offering, giving him a look that told of her displeasure at his delay.

"What's this?" she asked, sniffing it.

"Drink it." Corveau replied simply.

She scowled and turned up the container before gulping it down. Her annoyance turned to forgiveness at the taste of his offering. _Honeymint Tea. Her favorite drink._

"Good?" He asked, returning the smile she had given him. She nodded in reply. With a whistle, Corveau called over his wyvern from the stables and a few moments later the pair kicked off into the air, soaring between the giant roots of Nordrassil and off down the mountain.

Her eyes scanned the terrain below. Trees flew past all around them, first to either side and then below as they rose up but growing gradually sparser as they progressed farther from Nordrassil. They topped a large hill that helped guard the small encampment from the rest of the world and as the soft glow emanating from the wisps faded away it was replaced by the warm yellow sunlight that told them they were now away from the protective shade of the great tree.

With the comfortable warmth of the sun however came another less welcome companion – the sound of battle. _Damn_. She thought, gazing downward. _The cultists were this close already?_ There was no sign of reinforcements however. This particular group may have gotten far in their push, but the Guardians would make quick work of them with no support. Confident in the immediate security of the tree, she motioned to Corveau and they continued on.

With a gentle nudge, her hippogryph flapped its wings, taking her high into the air before swooping down over a huge drop off. The small elf leaned down, hunched over her bird as they plummeted nearly straight down the side of the large cliff at blazing speed, with Corveau following suit. As they passed through the thick plume of smoke that had formed a cloud over the region, the Southern side of the mountain came into full view. From the Sanctuary of Malorne east the land grew progressively more scorched. Cultists scrambled over each burning tree and building like ants swarming a piece of food, and dismantled any semblance of life they found.

As they barreled downward, she spotted a good landing spot near the Sanctuary and motioned towards it to Corveau. With a nudge of her heel, the Hippogryph suddenly pulled up, opening its wings to catch the air and slow its descent. With a soft screech, it swooped back up into an arc, shedding the remaining speed before planting its talons firmly into the scorched dirt and sending a small dust cloud up with the flap of its wings.

When the adrenaline had faded, Kalunaa dismounted and gave the bird a gentle scratch under its beak before turning to Corveau. "The air nearby is filled with drakes. We'll have to go on foot from here." She said. As if it understood her words, the Hippogryph gave a displeased chirp to which Kalunaa resumed her gentle scratching momentarily.

He looked slightly disappointed for a moment, but it passed before he nodded. "Right" he said. "Let's check in here first. It's possible they can tell us about the situation." He added.

The two made their way up to what was left of the burned out sanctuary and found a group of night elves gathered around a table. Kalunaa had never _hated_ her lunar oriented counterparts – at least not as much as some of her race did – but they had always unsettled her. The first Cataclysm had caused a rift that had never been properly healed between the Night Elves and those who would become the Blood Elves, and time could only do so much. She was somewhat relieved then when from out of a small tent came a somewhat oversized Tauren. He spotted the pair of elves before the group around the table did and waved to them.

"Welcome!" he shouted, his voice booming loud enough to grab the attention of the night elves as He waved them over. "Are you here to help in the fight?" he asked hopefully when they had made it up the small stone steps.

Kalunaa shook her head in reply. "No" she said "But our path does lead us through the cultists, and we cannot fly so I suspect we can be of use to you if you can do the same for us in return."

The Tauren tilted his head to the side somewhat, intrigued. "What do you need?" he asked.

"Just information" she replied. "What can we expect to run into?" she asked.

"Lots of demons." Said one of the night elves grimly. "The cultists are using them to fuel the corruption. They're also trying to enslave the ancients of the mountain." He continued. "Other Adventurers have done their part to help return and free the three great spirits, but the battle must still be fought, and if you can't tell we're slightly undermanned." He said, motioning around him.

The Tauren turned to the elves and put a large hand on the shoulder of the one speaking. "All we must do is hold the Sanctuary, friend. The battle will be fought by those who can, but it is not our job to do so." He said. The elf said nothing but nodded in reply.

Corveau stepped forward and spoke to the group. "Where are the cultists focusing now?" he asked. The Tauren turned to him and spoke. "When we got our last update, they had taken a small outpost to the East. The tower and barracks had burned out entirely but a small contingent of guardians was holed up, trying to hold them off." He turned his gaze towards the thick black smoke down the mountain.

"That was earlier today, but the scout who was due to report in later never showed." He said. "If the guardians are still alive, the situation must be dire by now. If you're going through there please, you must help them!" he begged with a look of concern.

Kalunaa turned to the Tauren. "We will do what we can. If your friends are alive we will try to help them. If what you've said is true however, I fear for their fate."

The Tauren set his brow and stared into the fires burning a short distance away. "They're alive." He said with a degree of finality that hid his uncertainty. One of the night elves gave a sad gaze downwards before patting the Tauren on the shoulder and turning to walk away.

Kalunaa turned to Corveau and saw his own look of sadness. "Let's go." She said. A few moments later the two sat atop their respective mounts, called forth by the magical whistles of their masters. Kalunaa gave the group at the sanctuary one last glance before nudging her armored tiger forward. The two set off down the path.

A short distance away from the sanctuary, a thick black wall of smoke had formed, obscuring both the sight and sound of anything beyond. As the pair approached it, Corveau felt an uneasy knot grow in his stomach. He didn't know what to expect beyond it. Would they ride into the middle of a raging battle? Or an ambush? The remnants of a slaughter?

He looked over at Kalunaa. Her gaze was set on the spot where the smoke and path converged. She looked full of anticipation, but not fear. He turned his own gaze back to their goal, once again settled by the confidence his friend showed. With that, the two elves leaned forward on their mounts, charging forwards. Whatever it was they would find behind that smoke, they were ready. They had to be.

The fate of the guardians was depending on it.

* * *

**A/N:**

Surprisingly annoying part of writing: _Fixing the fixes_. Seriously spell check. Who would want to type "Sanctuary of Maloney?"

Also, I generally try to keep things in the story to what I have/can do in game. If Kal in WoW didn't have the tiger, Kal in W&P wouldn't either!


	4. Chapter 3: Down the Mountain

**- Warriors and Paladins: Embers of Sulfuras -**  
_Chapter 3: Down the Mountain  
_

If they had been anywhere other than in the midst of battle, the idea that relative calm and utter chaos could be separated by only a few feet of smoke would have made Kalunaa laugh. In their current situation however, it seemed perfectly natural.

Her tiger landed with a thud on the other side of the thick hazy wall, and immediately she discovered why the scout had not returned to the sanctuary. A few yards ahead she lay dead, impaled on an abandoned trident – the signature weapon of Ragnaros' Flamewalkers. Kalunaa scanned their surroundings only to discover that close as they were to the Sanctuary, where they now stood seemed a world away.

The Sanctuary of Malorne was scarred, but it still held the soft promise of life. Amidst the ruins were patches of grass and trees that gave those around hope that one day all would be right again. But here, amongst the charred ruins of the mountain there was no hope. Here, only a short distance from respite, life had been driven back.

Elementals ravaged any hint of remaining life, with trees and plants shriveling immediately as the flame touched them. Down the hill, two-headed hounds – dreaded beasts dragged forth from the Firelands and last seen in the Molten Core – patrolled back and forth, dripping lava from their mouths and snarling at any stray Twilights Hammer cultists that wandered too near. Even the sky itself seemed to be burning, with its normal blueish hue replaced by a deep mix of red and orange that signaled to all who looked up for hope that the flames still ravaged the mountainside.

Positioned at the top of a hill, Kalunaa noted that they had not been spotted yet. Slipping off of her mount, she slowly approached the remains of the fallen scout. Corveau followed nearby, kneeling down to glance at the victim.

"She wouldn't even have had a chance." He said.

Kalunaa nodded in agreement. "She's only recently of age to leave Darnassus." She said.

"It looks like they took pleasure in this." Corveau continued.

"I'm sure they did." Kalunaa replied, her tone laced with disgust.

The girl was young, even for a Night Elf. Her skin was a pale blue tint and her bright blue hair accented the Darnassian markings that she wore well. By nearly any standards, she was beautiful. At least, she would have been before her encounter with the Twilight's Hammer.

Her face was frozen with a look that signaled a mixture of horror and relief at her death. At her sides, the armor she had worn was ripped cleanly away, the remaining edges black with burn marks. Her exposed stomach was covered in blood and the rest of her body – where the armor was not shredded and torn away – had the remaining bits of her former protective gear seared onto her, a torturous prison trapping her injuries away from any healing hands that might have found her.

Perhaps the most terrible injury she wore however was the burning rune etched into her face. Stretching from the top of her forehead down to her chin, it was clearly the product of some terrible incantation that would have wrought havoc on the scout, who was powerless to defend herself. Her face at the edges of the glyph was blackened, but the thin line at the center of it still glowed a gentle orange that told of the heat it must have produced. The burn marks made Corveau strongly suspect that the spell it had been a part of caused flames to burst forth over the poor girls face, immune to any attempts to extinguish them.

Kalunaa removed the bloody trident and picked the girl up, carrying her to the side of the road. Night Elves had a long and painful relationship with the Blood Elves, and normally the two races were considered at war, but in this fight for the survival of their world, they were allies, and to Kalunaa allies commanded respect, even in death. They would send word of her demise to the sanctuary later, so that a proper burial could be conducted.

She placed the girl on the ground near a small flower that had not yet been discovered by the cultists or their minions. Gently, she leaned the elf back against a charred tree stump, moving her hand up to close the girl's eyes. Kalunaa did not know much about Elven traditions. The great conflict that had led her people to split with the Kaldorei so long ago had left the Blood Elves disinterested in the workings of their former brethren, but she knew that the Night Elf goddess Elune would guide her fallen child into eternal rest. She spoke a brief prayer to the goddess of light, and though it felt foreign to her, Kalunaa knew that her words had been heard as the scout became ever so slightly less pale and her features looked more at ease.

As she turned back to climb onto her mount, Corveau caught a glimpse of her face. Her lips were turned downward in a scowl. Her brow was set and her eyes held an ever so slight tint of red. He had seen her like this once before, when they had fought together at Ulduar and like that time, he knew that it meant there would be no mercy for the cultists who crossed their path today. Turning, he climbed onto his charger.

So be it.

The two set off down the mountain at a furious pace. Stealth was not even the faintest part of their plan. Even their mounts seemed to feel the surge of hatred towards those who they were now charging at. Kalunaa's tiger let out a roar and leapt through the air as they reached the bottom of the hill, landing directly in the middle of a group of cultists who immediately scattered in all directions.

Kalunaa rolled to the side, dismounting and dodging a fireball that shot towards her as her giant cat clamped its jaws down on the neck of the unfortunate Warlock who had cast it. Corveau followed suit, his own charger rushing a large Flamewalker to impale the creature upon its armored horn before rearing up to stomp into the middle of a group of fire imps that were attempting to surround it.

A few yards away he saw his companion dodge the thrust of a trident, another Flamewalker sparring with her only briefly before the Paladin saw Kalunaa's great sword burst cleanly through the creatures back. In a single motion she withdrew it and swung it around, cutting another cultist in half as he tried to sneak behind her.

Corveau was momentarily lost in his friend's complete and utter destruction of her foes, but a loud snarl brought him back to reality in time to dodge away from the huge molten paw that came crashing down on where he had stood a moment before. Turning around, he found himself staring down a large core hound. The beast was easily the size of a small ship, though significantly more deadly. To Corveau's surprise, it was also much faster.

The first paw had barely hit the ground before the second came rushing through the air, directly at his head. Corveau raised his shield in a futile attempt to block but the sheer weight of the creature sent him flying backwards into a charred tree. Stunned, he had barely the time to react as he found his own Flamewalker antagonist thrusting a trident forward.

Faced with two foes he raised his shield and circled around preventing either one from getting behind him. A short whispered prayer brought forth a soothing stream of healing light and a brief respite before the core hound attacked again, charging full blast at the Paladin and lowering both of its two giant heads.

This time, Corveau was ready for it.

As the beast approached, he rolled backwards, shouting another prayer to the light. His shield - aimed directly at the beast's neck - acted like a cannon, light bursting forth from it and slowing only briefly as it contacted the Core Hound before shooting into the sky as not only one but both of the giant creature's heads were severed. Molten blood sprayed over the ground as the hound's gigantic corpse crashed into the blackened dirt, finally coming to rest on top of an unfortunate cultist who found himself covered in the giant dog's searing blood. Corveau felt nothing as the man's screams quickly faded away, signaling his agonizing end.

He wasted not even a moment before he was back on his feet, his sword coming up to parry the thrust of the trident from his last remaining foe. The Flamewalker, furious at the destruction of its monolithic pet, attacked with a burning rage that consumed all of its remaining energy. Strike after strike came, Corveau only barely managing to keep up and parry each of them. Finally they began to slow as the creature's exhaustion became greater than its rage.

Each strike grew less forceful, less accurate. Corveau knew he had only to wait out his attacker, and just as he expected, his foe made a mistake. A thrust went wide and his enemy's great slithering tail slipped a bit as its balance shifted while trying to recover. In a flash, Corveau brought up his shield, sending the trident flying away to the side. A moment later his sword came down, and the Flamewalker was no more as his head rolled off down the hill.

As his own battle subsided, he dropped to a knee, exhaustion overtaking him. With a quick whisper, he thanked the light for its aid and cast a small heal on himself, returning some of his much needed energy before rising and looking around for Kalunaa.

She was still in the middle of her own fight, some distance away. Where his own foe had been a core hound, she took on two Flamewalkers and a towering Ogre Mage. Not only that, but around her lay numerous bloodied and dismembered corpses of what he presumed had been her warm up.

As she rolled to one side, an orange streak of pure speed burst from the trees with a roar, landing on the back of a Flamewalker. Her tiger was clearly a force of its own, and with rage that matched its mistress it sank its teeth deep into the creature's neck, tearing away layers of bloodied skin until its prey stopped its thrashing. Corveau moved forward intending to help, but suspected he was not needed. With a twist Kalunaa thrust her sword forward and the second flamewalker slid to the ground dead.

Now only the ogre remained, and in the brief few moments prior his own expression had turned from that of a cat toying with a mouse to one of a mouse being toyed with by a cat. His lumbering body was too massive to dodge the strikes from his small elven foe, and with each one she claimed a greater bit of him. Backing away he held out an arm, chanting a spell as her sword came down. Just as it connected, a flash of light whisked him away further down the mountain to safety, but as it faded Kalunaa gained solace in the sight of his bloodied arm laying at her feet.

The pair paused to look at their surroundings as their battle concluded. The Cultists in the area had been utterly decimated. The path down was littered with the bodies of the different creatures they had fought, the fires all around them raged slightly less, and even the orange glow of the sky seemed to have faded slightly.

Their battle had brought them farther down the mountain than they had realized, and before them they saw the remains of a small outpost, flames coming from the roof of the only building that still stood. A movement caught their attention and Corveau readied his sword, but Kalunaa held up a hand to calm him. From the house came a Night Elf wearing the battle gear of the Guardians of Hyjal. The door to the small building gave way and fell aside as he stumbled out and fell to his knees.

Corveau rushed forward and whispered another soft prayer to the light as he did. The elf looked up at the two before pointing towards the small outpost.

"M-more…help" he gasped before falling forward, his remaining energy depleted.

In a split second, Kalunaa was off towards the fallen door. Corveau remained behind to help the injured elf, but it was only moments before she returned, another elf laying over her shoulder. Two more guardians followed, each supporting another and the small group was evacuated from the outpost just as the flames completely overtook it.

Kalunaa turned to the one who seemed most coherent. "Is that everyone?" she asked desperately. Relief washed over her as the elf nodded.

"Good." She replied. "You must be the group that we were asked to look for. Your allies at the Sanctuary of Malorne were worried about you – rightfully so it seems." She said.

The elf nodded. "We were caught by surprise when the cultists pushed up the mountain so fast. We barely had time to react. Even then, we suffered great losses."

"There were almost thirty of us originally. We're all that are left." He said sadly. "We've managed to hold out so far only because they knew we were no longer a threat. They set the fire and then went on with their work, assuming it would get to us eventually." He continued.

Kalunaa shook her head sadly. "It's a good thing we got here when we did then." She said.

Corveau moved to each one in turn, healing any major injuries enough that each could walk, either on their own or with the help of a comrade. In time the ragged group was again on its feet, armed with whatever they had managed to salvage from the ruins of the outpost as it burned. Kalunaa approached the one who had taken over leadership of the group.

"The path back to the Sanctuary is clear. Can you make it on your own?" she asked him.

The elf scanned the group. "I believe so. Just keep them off of us – we'll have to go slow."

Kalunaa nodded. "The small group that was here is gone, but they'll send reinforcements soon". She said. "You need to hurry. We're moving down the mountain, and we can keep them from advancing here only until we find a path down the side." She continued. "If you're not gone by then, you're on your own." She said.

The elf nodded gratefully. "That's more than enough. Thank you." He said, turning to the elves. "Alright men, up! Let's get the hell out of here." He said as the group began to slog their way up the hill.

Kalunaa turned to Corveau as the pair climbed atop their mounts. "It's been a long time since I fought in outright warfare." She said, pointing to the beaten group retreating from them. "I can't say I miss it."

Corveau nodded. "I know." He said simply.

Kalunaa shook her head. "There's a shortcut down nearby. It's a dangerous path, we may need to go on foot, but it will take us all the way down to the base of the mountain without having to go through the cultists and it's a little bit shorter as well." She said.

Corveau tilted his head to the side. "How do you know about it?" He asked.

Kalunaa shrugged. "I've used it before. How else would I know where we're going?" she replied.

Corveau gave a small laugh. "So can you tell me how our story ends then?" he teased. "Do I get to rescue a princess? Save the world?" he asked. "Do I at least get to fight a dragon?" he prodded.

Kalunaa grinned. "Do you want to fight a dragon?"

Corveau's own smirk quickly turned to a frown. "Wait. No. Do I _have_ to fight a dragon?!"

Kalunaa laughed. "Okay okay, no dragons. No princess either, but if you play your cards right you might be onto something with this saving the world bit." She said.

He chuckled as they turned to head down the mountain. "I suppose if that's the best we can do…" he said, fake depression settling over him.

Kalunaa prodded him in the shoulder with the hilt of her sword. "Cheer up Nightlight. You'll probably become famous for it. Who knows, maybe they'll even write a song about you back in Silvermoon." She said.

"Oi! Again with the Nightlight thing!" Corveau swatted at her sword annoyed.

"Fine, fine. " She said. "If you really don't want the song…"

Corveau sat atop his mount, still pretending to be annoyed at her use of his nickname. They were an unlikely pair, who could go from battle to bickering in no time, but it felt natural to him, and they knew it was all in good fun. Still…

"Hmph." He grumbled.

"What was that?" Kalunaa asked. She got no reply but managed to catch the end of his mumbled words.

"…_better get a damn song_."

* * *

**A/N:**

Sorry to take so long updating. Life and all. I'll try to be better!


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